


Four Lessons

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Banter, Bathing/Washing, Ceremonial Duelling, F/M, Family, Gen, Lotor has abandonment issues, Nerds in Love, Politics, Wedding Night, Wedding traditions, Weddings, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: There are four lessons every couple must take to heart before they can be bonded for life. Allura and Lotor navigate all of them, and more, together as they celebrate their own union. Luckily for them, they don't need to do it alone.





	1. A Lesson in Patience

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks once again to beansquat and everyone in the Lotura discord for helping me brainstorm and get this done. Tbh this is a self-indulgent experiment in writing Altean/Galran wedding traditions because they fascinate me. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Allura stood silently by the grand window overlooking the vast reach of galaxies beyond the castle, gaze jumping from one star to the next. One pinprick of light after another, so many that she could stand here for vargas without counting one twice.

Bone-deep exhaustion seeped into her entire body, making her feet ache and her joints stiff, and her hair was a seemingly unsalvageable mess, sticking up in every direction. Yet she had never felt more at peace. She didn’t think she had ever been happier.

She let out a breath, letting her shoulders go slack and her eyes close. The soft padding of feet on the carpet was all the warning she got before a kiss dropped to her bare shoulder.

“Won’t you come back to bed, my queen?” Lotor asked, barely more than a whisper, and she smiled.

“I was thinking…”

“Oh dear.”

She pulled his head closer, letting him nuzzle at her neck as she laughed. “I was thinking of how far we’ve come,” she said. “The last few quintants alone have been a trial in their own right.”

He sighed, his breath hot against the crook of her neck. “They have been a long several quintants,” he admitted, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as he glanced up at her from behind a fringe of messy silver hair. His own was almost as much of a mess as hers was. “Although…I don’t believe I would trade them for a single thing.”

“No,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t either.”

She turned to kiss him properly – a long and lingering kiss that brought a fresh flush to her cheeks when they finally pulled away.

“Come back to bed,” he said, his lips tickling hers with every word. “We have a brief respite from our trials, and I want to spend every moment of it with you.”

She let him lead her back to the bed, slipping between the sheets with him again. It was easy to nestle up against his chest, letting her eyes slide closed again as she listened to the steady beating of his heart.

* * *

 

_Four days earlier_

The traditions that came with the first day of the wedding ceremony had been burned into Allura’s mind since early childhood. As a girl, she had dreamed of the vast, sprawling feasts and mountains of gifts that had always been the custom; the long, flowing ceremonial dresses and robes; the crystal jewelry; music that played long into the night as she danced with family and friends – it was everything she had ever wanted when she had been young.

She had almost given up on ever having any of it, pushing it all to the back of her mind when more pressing matters arose. But now that she was staring the realization of that dream in the face. Now that it was about to solidify into something that she could touch and smell and taste, instead of just a distant fantasy, her heart raced. Now, it was more than just a lavish party thrown in her honor, just as Lotor was not the faceless – yet undoubtedly handsome – partner she had attempted to imagine so many times before.

Now it was beginning to sink in, and the solemnity and deep respect that had always hovered like a fog over every wedding ceremony she had attended as a girl seemed more fitting. She had never understood as a child why adults always insisted on ruining such a wonderful party with stale traditions and stern faces. She had never understood why so much time was wasted on prayers and blessings that could be better spent feasting and dancing.

Now she understood. It must have showed on her face, too, because the paladins looked worried as they sat at her right side at the long table at the front of the grand hall. The rest of their guests were filing in, muttering quietly, respectfully as they began to take their own seats.

“Such a crowd,” she breathed, and she felt more than heard Lotor chuckle next to her.

“Did you think that a royal wedding wouldn’t be well-attended?” he asked. “The ceremony is being broadcast all throughout the reach of the empire and the Coalition. Not my idea, I assure you.” He sighed, tugging on his collar. Nervous? If so, he hid it well. “It would seem that our allies are quite happy to hear of the union.”

“I certainly hope so,” Allura said. “I do hope they realize we aren’t marrying just for politics’ sake.”

He finally smiled, squeezing her hand beneath the table. “I would have been content to marry you on a deserted planet without a bit of pomp and circumstance. As long as I can spend the rest of my life by your side.”

“I’m already marrying you – there’s no need to try and woo me any longer.” She did her best to mask her laugh. After all, they would soon be the faces of a new chapter in the new Galra empire, and all eyes were already on them.

Lotor, however, didn’t seem to mind one bit. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. “On the contrary, I plan on wooing you every chance I get.”

Her cheeks flushed, and there was little she could do to hide that. Rather than try, she covered their interlocked fingers with her other hand and smiled at him, ignoring the rapt gazes of their guests in the grand hall and beyond. The urge to kiss him was strong, but there were still customs in place, and it would be a long time before she could indulge in much more than the feeling of his hand in hers.

When their guests were all seated, a hush fell over the hall, sweeping through from wall to wall like a rushing wave. Every eye turned toward them – Galra, Arusian, Olkari, Balmeran – and Allura took a deep breath before standing before them.

“My honored guests,” she said, her hands feeling bare where Lotor’s fingers had caressed her skin just moments before. “It is so heartening to see such a show of support on the first day of this union ceremony. On behalf of all of the descendants of Altea, I welcome you all, and invite you to partake in our traditions as we celebrate a new chapter of this universe’s history.” She smiled, relief beginning to untie the knot in her stomach as she bowed her head. “As is customary, I would like to begin with a traditional Altean blessing…”

The words fell from her lips almost as easily as her breath, conjuring memories of her childhood when such things would have bored her to tears. She remembered smelling the food waiting to be served, her stomach growling and her mouth watering as the opening remarks dragged on and on.

Strangely, she didn’t want them to end now. Not when she had thought she would never hear these words again, let alone speak them herself.

When she finally finished, tears were stinging her eyes – something she didn’t even realize until Coran gingerly handed her his own napkin. She took it gratefully, dabbing at her cheeks as she looked out over the crowd again. “Please, eat and drink your fill. I’m honored to share in the bounty of our united planets on this wonderful day.”

Her legs felt like jelly as she sat down again, and she barely noticed the table filling with food. Coran leaned over toward her, a hand on her arm as he beamed at her. “I couldn’t have delivered the address any better myself,” he told her, and she matched his smile with one of her own.

“Indeed,” Lotor said, grasping her hand again. It was a relief, feeling his palm fit against hers once more. “I only hope I can carry half of the same dignity when it comes my turn to address this throng.”

“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble,” Allura replied with a soft laugh. “Surely you wouldn’t have risen to the seat of emperor if you couldn’t manage a simple speech.”

“I’d hope not.”

The grand hall was filled with the sound of cutlery clinking and the low murmur of a thousand different conversations, and the warm smell of too many different dishes to count wafted around them. But the space in front of Allura and Lotor remained bare even as everyone else began to eat, and Pidge was the first to notice, even with the first bite of her own meal halfway to her mouth.

“Uh…Princess, aren’t you supposed to eat too?” she asked, lowering her food as if out of respect. Allura smiled at her, shaking her head.

“Soon,” she said. “It’s customary for the couple to be married to serve each other, only after all of the guests have already eaten.” But Pidge still didn’t look convinced. “It’s alright, really. Please, go ahead. We’re hardly going to starve while we wait a few more dobashes.”

“You have to start off your wedding hungry?” Lance asked, grimacing. “I dunno if I could manage being Altean married…”

“I’m sure it does take a certain measure of…maturity,” Shiro said, neatly bringing a spoonful of soup to his lips.

“Ooh, burn!” Hunk muttered under his breath.

“Did you all already forget about the briefing I gave you about Altean wedding traditions?” Coran admonished, and Allura swore she saw the paladins’ cheeks redden a bit.

“To be fair,” she laughed, “Your briefings have never been particularly…brief, Coran.” She let a hand rest on his shoulder. “It’s more than alright…I’m sure the paladins are more than prepared for their parts in the coming ceremony. And regardless, I’m just glad you can be here with us.” She smiled at them warmly. “All of you.”

“We’re happy to be here,” Shiro said with a grin of his own. But Pidge leaned out in front of him.

“I’m curious, though,” she said, “Why do you guys eat last? Every wedding I got dragged to as a kid, we always had to wait for the bride and groom to get their dinner at the reception before anyone else…”

“It’s a lesson in patience,” Lotor said, drawing all of their gazes toward him. He looked every bit the thoughtful diplomat, his shoulders straight and his hands folded neatly on the table before him. “The couple to be married must wait for all others to be served before receiving their own meals, and they should do so with grace and dignity, and without complaint. For the first lesson the couple must learn before embarking on their new journey is the value of patience in the face of frustration.”

All of them stared, Coran’s mouth hanging slightly open before he shook himself out of his trance and nodded. “That’s precisely right. Sounds like you took it straight out of the Altean Ceremonial Conspectus.”

“I did, actually,” Lotor said with an almost sheepish smile. “I was always quite fascinated by Altean wedding traditions. There’s certainly no shortage of them.”

“There most certainly isn’t,” Allura giggled. But at the same time, something tight and warm welled up within her chest as she looked at him. She had never thought it would feel so amazing, so _refreshing,_ meeting someone who knew their own traditions and rituals almost as well as Coran did.

Though of course, she doubted _anyone_ could surpass Coran in their knowledge of Altean history, no matter how hard they studied. But coming anywhere close was an impressive feat in its own right.

She was content to watch as the others ate, despite her own stomach growling. A lesson in patience – she had never paid attention to it as a girl. She had always been too busy enjoying the feast herself to realize the celebrated couple went hungry. But soon, the sound of eating and merriment died down as Coran stood up from the table, and all eyes turned toward them again.

“Well then,” he said, hands clasped behind his back, “If I may ask for your attention – yes, yes, eyes on me, thank you. Very good.” He cleared his throat and straightened his collar, gesturing toward Allura and Lotor with a flourish. “As some of you may already know, Altean tradition dictates that the couple is served last. Not only that, but each of them will be served a special dish prepared by the other’s own two hands. So without further ado…”

For a moment, Allura looked over and caught Hunk’s eye, and she found him smiling so widely that he seemed just as excited as she was. She could scarcely forget all the time they had spent in the castle kitchens, pouring over recipes and testing minute adjustments to sauces and dressings until they found one that was perfect. When the time had come, painfully early this morning, to prepare her own dish for the occasion, she had done so without his help, but she never could have completed it without every varga they had spent together leading up to it.

What had gone into Lotor’s own preparations, she didn’t know. They had necessarily been kept secret from each other until this moment – another lesson in patience, she was sure. The moment the dish was placed in front of her, she was overwhelmed by rich, savory smell that made her mouth water and her stomach gurgle in anticipation.

It was obviously some kind of meat, though she wasn’t sure what kind; smoky brown-pink flesh had been carefully cut away from and arranged inside a segmented midnight black shell. It was steaming hot, covered in flecks of deep red – some kind of spice she was sure was the source of the hot, almost sour scent that accented the smell of the meat. Small blue berries and green leaves surrounded the shell, glistening in the light from the steam that had condensed on their surface.

She prayed she wouldn’t drool when she opened her mouth to speak: “This looks magnificent.”

“It’s possible you may be a bit biased,” Lotor pointed out. “I did hear your stomach growling a moment ago, and I’m sure anything would look tempting if one were hungry enough.”

She shook her head. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short – I had no idea you could cook like this.”

He shot her a smirk. “May I suggest reserving judgment until you’ve actually tasted it?”

“Are you trying to tell me you made it unpalatable on purpose?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Never,” he said. “But if you decide the taste doesn’t live up to the presentation, feel free to dump the whole thing in my lap.”

She had to stifle another laugh as Lotor’s own meal was set in front of him, and she was glad for the momentary distraction. The moment she noticed them lowering the plate onto the table before him, her chest clenched in anticipation.

She had spent a painfully long time putting together what was, in theory, a relatively simple dish. She had made it a grand total of three times – the first time, the steamed grain had been too dry; the second time, the greens had been too charred and wilted; the third time it had finally come together as planned, leaving her barely enough time to get dressed.

Lotor’s reaction did not disappoint, though; he stared at the plate, his eyes darting back and forth between every piece of it. Allura couldn’t help but feel proud – the colors came together beautifully, deep greens and reds and purples brightening up the toasty tan of the perfectly steamed grain.

“It was one of my favorite dishes growing up,” she blurted, and he turned away from the dish for the first time to glance at her. “As close as I could come anyway…”

“It’s gorgeous,” he insisted, and she wrinkled her nose.

“May I suggest reserving judgment until you’ve actually tasted it?” she playfully retorted.

Lotor licked his lips. “I can scarcely wait.”

It was more difficult than she wanted to admit to hold herself back from scarfing down her dinner all in one breath. Her dignity held her back, but more than that, she wanted to savor every bit of it. After all, this was the first meal they shared that they had made for each other, and she would have regretted rushing through it just to sate her growling stomach.

The first bite was heaven, an explosion of sharp spice and smoky flavor that melted on her tongue, and she sighed. “Stars, this is amazing…” She turned to look at Lotor and found him chewing thoughtfully, his eyes lightly closed.

“I was about to say the same,” he finally said once he’d swallowed.

“Sure you’re not saying that just because you were hungry?”

“Never,” he told her, and he dove in again for another bite.

As much as she valued the lesson in patience passed down from her ancestors, it was a relief to no longer be so ravenous for the next stage of the ceremony. She cleaned her plate, leaving nothing but the shell and a few flecks of spice, and Lotor left behind even less.


	2. A Lesson in Honesty

Kolivan was not, on his best days, a sweet or tender person. He didn’t smile as he entered the dimly lit room and sat across from her. Allura didn’t expect anything so unrealistic. He looked her in the eye, his gaze hard and his brow furrowed, and they sat in silence for a long several moments.

She fought the urge to squirm, clear her throat, something to break the tension. She couldn’t speak. Not until he did first. Finally, he did: “I’d like to extend my congratulations to you, princess.”

“Thank you,” she said, almost a reflex. She had thanked so many people for their gifts and well-wishes recently – too many to count. “But I’m sure there’s more you mean to say to me than that.”

He nodded and didn’t say much else before leaning forward in his seat. His braid nearly touched the floor, swinging like a gentle pendulum as he clasped his fingers. “You’re about to be wed to one of the most powerful leaders in this universe…about to ascend the throne of the new Galra empire.”

“I’m well aware,” she breathed, a slight slip of the customary manners, but Kolivan didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she swore he cracked a smile, albeit only for a moment.

“Something you don’t take lightly, I’m sure,” he said. “I hope you don’t take my questions as a any kind of disbelief in your skill as a leader, but the Blade of Marmora has taken its place at the right hand of the new emperor. And as the leader of the Blade, I wish to ask you, face to face, just how you plan to take the Galra empire into this new age of peace.”

Politics. Of course. She didn’t expect anything else from Kolivan. Of course, it was hardly the first time she’d had to answer to similar concerns. “The empire is fragmented,” she said. “Horribly so. And to maintain peace it will need to come together under one banner. Lotor has already put it strongly on that path, but there’s a long way to go…”

“Forgive me, princess,” Kolivan said, “but do you truly believe you can lead the Galra when you have held so much hatred for us in your heart for so long?”

The question hit her like a blow to the chest, almost making her waver in her seat. Kolivan’s gaze bore into her, so intense it seemed hot enough to burn right through her, but she met it with her own. She drew in a deep breath and clasped her hands in her lap before she had the chance to feel slighted. “I hold no hatred in my heart for the Galra,” she said softly.

“Nobody would blame you if you did,” Kolivan pointed out, and she didn’t doubt that he was right.

“I did,” she admitted. “For a long time, I did. The Blade, Keith, Lotor…I viewed Galra as evil, irredeemable beings.” She sighed. “But I was wrong to think that way. Not wrong to feel angry, but wrong to blame all of you for the actions of people who had wounded you just as deeply as they had wounded me.”

She looked up at him again and found him looking almost…surprised. Had he not expected her to answer with such confidence? Had he expected anger, defensiveness, spite, after all they had been through? It wouldn’t have been a response that suited a leader, of Alteans or Galra. Perhaps, she thought, that was why he had asked.

“Is that so?” he finally asked, eyes narrowing. “So you can manage to put your trust in this new Galra empire after all?”

“I certainly hope so – I am marrying its leader after all.”

She hadn’t planned to respond that way – the words tripped out of her before she could stop them, and she resisted the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. As if that would pull them back. Kolivan went silent, so silent that Allura wondered if he was breathing at all. It stretched on for dobashes, it seemed, and suddenly she was very aware of why she had been dreading this part of the ceremony for so long.

Finally, though, Kolivan broke the silence, but not how she had been expecting: he laughed. It was a rare sight in and of itself, but it took her by surprise even more now. “I never met King Alfor,” he said, “or any Altean besides you and your advisor. But I would have liked to, if they were anything like you.”

He stood, and a moment later dropped to one knee, his head bowed low. Allura could do nothing but blink, staring at him with her mouth hanging open as he said, “I have no further questions for you, princess.” He met her eye again, but this time his gaze was softer, more amicable. “Or perhaps I should get used to calling you ‘empress,’ yes? I’ve no doubt you will make a fine one. The new Galra empire needs someone with a sharp wit and a sharper tongue – Emperor Lotor fits the bill nicely, but he could use someone by his side to match him.”

Allura let out a breath and managed a smile, standing herself and beckoning Kolivan to get back up on his feet. “’Princess’ will do just fine as a title, thank you,” she said. “I may be marrying a Galra emperor, but I am still the crown princess of Altea. It’s not a title I plan on abandoning anytime soon.”

“Of course.” He bowed once more. “Princess.”

* * *

Lotor wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he turned at the sound of the door sliding closed. Coran, maybe – he was sure to make an appearance. Shiro perhaps. But certainly not one of the younger Paladins. Oh, he expected all of them to come in some order or another, but the first of them through that door was not their leader.

Lance didn’t say a word as he sat down in the chair and waited for Lotor to do the same across from him. He wrung his hands, fidgeted in his seat, bit his lip. Lotor hoped he wasn’t as obvious about his own nerves, prevalent as they were now.

“What?” Lance asked, a bit more ice in his tone than Lotor had been expecting. “You didn’t think I’d be first?”

“Honestly, no,” he admitted. “I would have thought Shiro-“

“Oh trust me, Shiro’s coming, and he’s probably gonna have a big speech about trust and loyalty and teamwork, and it’s gonna be super inspiring like usual. But I don’t have any speeches, okay? Coran said this part was all about asking you questions to…test your worthiness and stuff. So that’s what I’m doing.” He sighed, his anger – was it anger? Frustration? Nerves? Lotor hadn’t quite gotten the hang of reading humans on the best of days – seemed to deflate. “Look, I’m not trying to trick you or anything. So you can relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

Lance laughed at that. Well, it made him seem a bit more agreeable, at least, but it didn’t soothe Lotor’s nerves much. “Please,” he said. “You’ve been a nervous wreck since this thing started. You put on a good show and all, but I can see right through you, dude.”

Damn, was he really that transparent?

“It’s okay,” Lance said. His voice was softer now – had less of an edge to it. “I know you…you love her.” He stared at his hands rather than looking Lotor in the eye as he spoke. “And she really loves the heck out of you too. So I feel like I gotta say it: if you hurt her-“

“You’ll throw me out of an airlock, I’m assuming?” Lotor finished for him.

“Me and everyone else in the castle. The mice included.”

Lotor very nearly cracked a smile at that image. Even if it did involve his untimely demise. “Are you going to ask me if I plan to betray her?” he asked Lance. “If I plan to double cross her to somehow gain more power? Or if I’m using her in some way? Go on – ask me if you wish. That’s why we’re here after all.”

Lance was quiet for a long couple of ticks after that, mulling it over. Turning his words around and around in his mind as he tried to settle on the right ones. Lotor could almost see the cogs turning before Lance opened his mouth to speak again: “No, nothing like that.” He sounded almost unsure, tentative. Nervous? Maybe all three and more. “I thought about it. Thought a lot about what I wanted to ask you. Everyone else discussed it, went over their lists. Pidge’s is like a mile long by the way, so get ready for that. But I…I think I know what I want to ask you – what I _really_ want to ask you. And it doesn’t have anything to do with you betraying her or using her or hurting her…”

He sighed, and Lotor found himself almost painfully intrigued.

“I just wanna know…” Lance breathed, “What would you have…if you didn’t have her?”

Lotor couldn’t manage much more than a stuttering repetition of what Lance had just asked him: “What I…would have without Allura?”

“Yeah.” Lance shifted a bit in his sheet, still not quite looking him in the eye. “Look, I know it sounds like a dumb question, but my grandma told me once that…that when you really love someone, you shouldn’t be able to imagine your life without them. And I don’t know much about what it’s like to feel that way about someone…but I think that if you love Allura as much as you claim you do, maybe…maybe you feel the same way. And I wanna know if you do.”

The silence that followed felt like it seeped straight into Lotor’s bones, and he suddenly found his mouth dry. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt well and truly speechless. He certainly never expected that it would be a human – let alone this human – who would render him as such.

“I’m not sure…” he finally managed to say, his voice rough and clumsy. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “I’m not sure what you want me to say…do you want me to tell you that I can’t imagine my life without her? I’ve had a very long life so far, and Allura has been part of only a small piece of it. I can certainly remember what life was like before I met her, and if I had to live without her, then…well, I suppose I could. I’ve gotten very good at living without things I might wish for.”

Lance frowned, but Lotor didn’t give him a chance to speak again. Not quite yet. “But then…I suppose that wasn’t your question, was it? If I didn’t have Allura…what would I have? An empire, a title, power…I would still have plenty of _things._ But I don’t think you meant _things,_ Lance. You meant people – family, friends…and as far as they are concerned, without Allura, I…I wouldn’t have much of anything.”

His chest ached, and he wondered if Lance could tell just how raw his throat felt just from those few words alone. Finally, Lance spoke again: “Ah…quiznak. Now I feel like a total jerk.”

Lotor blinked at him. “A jerk?”

“Yeah, an ass. A douche. A…a big meanie. I’m not trying to give you a complex here.”

Lotor stared at him, at a loss until he felt something bubble up in his chest and escape as a laugh. It surprised him as much a sit seemed to surprise Lance, but he couldn’t hide it. He didn’t bother. “You really are _young,_ aren’t you?” he chuckled, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of him, if only for just a short moment. “Paladin…if you think I can live ten thousand of your years only to have _you_ give me a complex – well, you’d have to be rather full of yourself, don’t you think?”

Lance damn near _pouted._ “Okay, okay, I get it! You’re an ancient super-intelligent alien! And all that stuff my grandma said probably doesn’t mean squat to you…”

“No.” Lance looked up at him again as Lotor’s laugh tapered away into something else, something more…tender. “No, I think your grandmother is a very wise person. And I can tell you care very much about Allura.”

“Yeah…” Lance sighed. “We all do.”

“She cares very much for you too, you know.” He saw Lance perk up a little. “Maybe not in the way you might have wished…but I know she considers you family.”

Now a blush flashed across Lance’s cheeks. “It’s not – I’m not trying to win her over at her own wedding! And besides, I…I want her to be happy, you know? And she’s happy with you. So…godspeed, I guess.”

Lance stood and held out a hand. Lotor stared at it.

“C’mon, nobody taught you about how a handshake works in all those ten thousand years you’ve been alive? You’re supposed to grab it, buddy.”

Ah, of course…another Earth tradition. He reached out, pressing his palm against Lance’s and feeling Lance’s fingers close around his tightly. “Anyway,” Lance coughed. “You don’t have to have nothing. You can…be happy. Just as long as you make her happy too.”

“Of course,” Lotor said, feeling a little dazed as Lance pulled his hand away and turned on his heel. It didn’t quite feel real – and stars, he still had so many more trials to face before the day was over…

* * *

Allura swore that every member of the Blade intended to make an appearance while they had the chance. She was hardly surprised – the Blade had been conceived to be loyal to the empire, and now that they had a leader worth pledging their fealty to once more, their devotion was nothing less than unshakable. She was happy to see so many turn up on Lotor’s behalf, but as the day wore on and the latest left the room after grilling her on her politics for half a varga, she collapsed into her chair with a sigh.

There was no way of telling how much time had passed. That was part of the trial itself. A trial of honor, of honesty, of proving her worthiness not only to her own people, but _his_ people.

It was more of a formality than anything else, but it didn’t feel like one. It wasn’t meant to.

All too soon, the door opened, and she pulled in a breath as she prepared for the next round of questioning. Who would it be this time? Another one of the Blade come to delve into her political leanings, her plans for the Galra, her ability to lead a people with whom she shared no blood?

A figure stood in the doorway, not approaching quite yet, but they were familiar. “Keith…”

“Hey…” He scratched at his neck. “Princess…”

His smile was a little shaky – whether it was from nerves or exhaustion, she couldn’t quite tell. But it was genuine, and that was all that mattered to her as she returned it. “I’m so glad you’re here, Keith,” she breathed, emotion making the words come out strained. “It’s so good to see you.”

Keith seemed to relax a little as he sat down across from her. “Yeah…I’m really glad to be here. Haven’t been able to relax much, being part of Lotor’s guard, but still.” He swallowed, fidgeting with his hands. Maybe that shaky smile had been thanks to nerves after all. “Kolivan told me about what this is all about. I’m supposed to…question you.”

“It’s tradition,” she assured him. “To ensure that I’m worthy and my intentions are pure. My parents went through the same thing when they were married. So please…don’t feel like you need to hold anything back.”

She doubted he was planning on doing so anyway, but he nodded all the same. “Right…well, I’m not gonna ask you about politics or anything.”

Thank the stars, she thought to herself.

“Really…I only have one thing I want to ask you about. It’s kind of…personal.”

“Personal?” she asked. Personal to her or to him, she wondered.

He didn’t quite meet her eye as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Yeah…personal. Kind of. I just…wasn’t sure if any of the other Blades would have brought it up, and…I’ve been wondering about it for a long time. It’s been…eating away at me.”

“Keith…whatever it is, please…”

After a long and uncomfortable silence, Keith finally asked: “If you could change Lotor so he wasn’t half Galra…so he was one hundred percent Altean…would you?”

Allura turned the question over in her mind, sure that she must have misheard, or perhaps that the universal translator was malfunctioning. Surely Keith couldn’t think…

“And before you say you wouldn’t change anything about him,” Keith interrupted before she could answer, “you have to understand…nobody else asked you that because nobody else in the Blade knows how it feels. I’m the only hybrid in the Blade of Marmora now. I was the only hybrid member of Voltron. And I never quite felt…Galra enough for the Blade or human enough for Voltron…”

“Keith…”

“-and Lotor…I can see it in his face. I know sometimes he feels that way too…”

“Keith,” she said again, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

“I don’t want you to think I’m angry or I don’t trust you because I do, but I haven’t been able to stop wondering – you wanted to find more surviving Alteans more than anything, and if you’re just settling for him-“

“Keith!” She was on her feet, her hands clutching his, and finally, he fell silent. She squeezed his hands tightly, not even realizing that tears were spilling down her cheeks until they splashed onto her knuckles. “I never…I never settled. Not for Lotor…not for anyone. Including you.”

He glanced down at her hands, still holding his own, and then back up to her eyes again. “I never said you settled for me…”

“But you were thinking it, Keith. I know you were.”

He frowned as he looked away again. “This isn’t about me. It’s your wedding-“

“And you’re my friend. That’s why you’re here. Keith…I don’t love Lotor in spite of his Galra blood. I love him because of it. And his Altean blood too. They’re not two separate halves of him – they’re…they’re both _all_ of him. And the same goes for you.” She pulled him into a hug, only meant to be a quick one. She knew Keith wasn’t the most comfortable with things like this…but then his arms slowly wrapped around her too.

“Thanks…” he said in a small voice, muffled against her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make your wedding about my own…stuff.”

“Your stuff is important,” she said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I’m glad you found a new family and purpose in the Blade. But you’re always welcome in the Castle of Lions. On official business or not.”

He clandestinely brought a hand to his own face, turning away so she couldn’t quite see the moment when he wiped his thumb along his cheek. “Right,” he said with a smile. “Thanks, princess. Er…queen?”

“Like I told Kolivan, ‘princess’ is fine,” she laughed.

“Yeah, well…I think I’m the last one. And I don’t really have any more to ask you. Politics was never my forte, you know?”

She sighed. “I’ve never been more relieved to hear that.”

* * *

Lotor had thought that his nerves would subside as he made his way through the day, once he knew what to expect. He had thought that meeting the other paladins’ questions head on would be less intimidating – certainly not easy; he was far from naïve.

They were, to a point. The youngest one stayed the longest, never giving him a break as she came at him with everything she had. He respected her for that. The leader seemed to prefer meaningful pauses more than incessant questioning, but he wasn’t sure if that boded well or ill for him. The yellow paladin chose his words carefully, seeming almost timid at first, but gaining more confidence as they spoke, and like Pidge, he probed deep into Lotor’s intentions and loyalty not only to Allura, but to the Altean lineage that she represented.

He had thought that after making it through that gauntlet, the rest would be easier.

He had never been so wrong. He realized as much as he watched Coran twirl his mustache as they sat across from one another. Suddenly he was very aware that unlike the humans, Coran knew exactly what this day – this trial – was about. He had been through it before, Lotor was certain.

Not only that, but his connection to Allura ran deeper than any of those before. Lotor almost felt like he was sitting across from King Alfor himself.

“Well,” Coran said sagely, his tone amicable, almost chipper. “You’ve made it this far. Of course I never expected you to have much trouble facing the paladins.”

“Are you expecting me to have trouble with you?” Lotor asked carefully.

Coran laughed. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that.” He went back to twirling his mustache, his brow furrowed. Had there always been such a deep line there, or was it only because he was preparing for some kind of interrogation?

Lotor gulped.

“As I’m sure you know,” he started, “This tradition goes back almost as far as the Altean tradition of bonding ceremonies. Even the most ancient traditions involved a trial like this – both partners facing the others’ friends and family as one final test of worthiness.”

“If I remember correctly,” Lotor added, “The older tradition involved less talking and a bit more bloodshed.”

Coran chuckled. “Yes, you’re right. Altean history is far from entirely peaceful. Luckily we’ve long since moved away from battles to the death. Probably for the best.”

“Indeed.”

“Now then…by now you must know how this works.” Coran’s tone had changed, losing its friendly, inviting air. When he looked at Lotor again, his gaze was fiery, so intense that Lotor almost flinched. Almost, but not quite.

Maybe that was part of the test. Regardless, he intended to face it head on. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “You’re quite close to Allura. I’d expect nothing less than for you to do all you can to ensure my intentions meet your expectations.”

“Yes…” Coran let out a breath, dropping his hands to his lap and closing his eyes. The furrow in his brow never shrank. In fact, Lotor saw it deepen as Coran clasped his hands together. “Here’s the thing, though. I’ve always thought that actions are the real test, so every chance you’ve had to convince me that you’ll be good for Allura – and for the whole Coalition – you’ve already had before you stepped into this room.”

Coran’s eyes opened again, and that laser-focused gaze was back on Lotor’s face again.

“Ah…” was all Lotor managed to say, before Coran swept him into a tight hug. “Huh-“

“Don’t look so terrified!” Coran insisted, a smile slipping back onto his face as if he hadn’t, just moments before, looked like he could crush Lotor to dust with his pinkie finger if he’d had the urge. “You’ve done a fantastic job!”

“H-have I?” he stuttered, wobbling a bit on his feet as Coran let him go.

But Coran didn’t turn to look at him again right away – he stepped away, turning from him and sighing deeply. The silence that followed stretched on and on until Lotor wondered if Coran was expecting him to break it. But when Coran spoke again, finally, his voice was barely over a whisper: “You know…I’ve known Allura her whole life. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen her as happy as when she’s with you.”

Lotor’s breath left him in one shuddering gasp. “You…you think so?”

“I know so. I’m more certain than anything. And I’m happier than a weblum in an asteroid field that she’s realized it too.” Coran’s hand fell on his shoulder. “I don’t have any questions for you. But I do have one request. Just…be good to her. Be everything she deserves.”

Lotor nodded, barely realizing he was doing it.

And just like that, it was over.


	3. A Lesson in Respect

Allura watched as Lotor pulled his hair back neatly and tied it with a long red ribbon. It matched the one holding her own hair back from her face – a deep crimson material that caught the light like the surface of rolling water. It stood out so vividly against the silver of his hair that her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to it with every one of his slow, easy movements.

Then he let the robe fall from his shoulders, and Allura had to hold back a gasp.

His was wearing armor – not the heavy plated armor she had seen him in so many times before, but deep blue woven pads that covered his chest, shoulders and forearms. His upper arms were exposed, lean muscle flexing beneath his skin as he stretched.

She refused to let herself get distracted so easily.

All eyes were on her as she stepped into the circle, fine sand seeping between her toes with every step. Unlike Lotor, she wore no armor. Her robes were light, so much so that she barely felt their weight. She was only aware of them when the hem of her pants brushed against her bare ankles or when the fabric so carefully draped over her left shoulder and right hip caught ever so slightly on the rougher supportive binding around her chest.

The moment he laid eyes on her, his gaze sharpened, honing in. She smirked.

The low murmur of voices around them went silent as they met in the middle of the circle. They locked eyes and bowed. “I believe it’s customary,” Lotor said as he straightened up to face her again, “that we choose each other’s weapon for this battle of ours, yes? Would you care to do me the honor of choosing first?”

His confidence wouldn’t be shaken by something so inconsequential as putting his choice of weapon in her hands. That much she knew, and knew well. Luckily, her confidence wasn’t so fragile either. “The blade,” she said with a nod.

His brow furrowed. “Are you giving up such a prime opportunity to handicap me?”

“I don’t wish to handicap you,” she said as she watched him study the light Altean blade. She caught his eye. “I want you to come at me with everything you have.”

Something flashed in his eyes, a hunger she recognized from the last time they had shed their clothes in her darkened bedroom. Did this make him want her so badly?

Extraordinary.

“Your choice?” she prompted, and he looked over her shoulder at the weapons lined up along the perimeter of the circle: the bow, the whip, the war axes, and-

“The blade as well,” he said, flashing his teeth. “It’s only fair.”

She nodded as she took her own weapon, almost identical to Lotor’s save for the color of the blade in its hilt – a fiery red crystal that contrasted against the deep midnight black one that rested against Lotor’s thumb. “A smart choice,” she said as she felt its weight and dropped her finger lightly against the tip of the blade. “If you had chosen the bow, this fight would have been over much too quickly.”

The hunger in Lotor’s gaze grew, his eyes darkening as he backed toward the edge of the arena again.

“She’s really gonna fight him?” she heard Lance whisper. “On their wedding?” His voice was tinged with worry, and she understood why. She had seen Lotor fight enough times to know not to underestimate him.

“It’s one of the most sacred of Altean traditions,” she said, looking down at her reflection in the gleaming blade. “A show of respect and trust.”

“Indeed,” Coran said thoughtfully. “Not to worry – there’s no intent to maim or kill. All that matters is that it’s a good and fair fight.”

And it would be a fair fight. Allura would make sure of that. She wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

She held his gaze as they readied their weapons. He would not go easy on her. Not today. That much was clear from the moment he pressed the balls of his feet into the sand and launched himself forward with a guttural roar.

She dodged, barely, the edge of his blade clipping the end of the ribbon in her hair. The sand was warm under her palm as she caught herself with her free hand, turning just as Lotor came at her again. This time, she ducked under his arm and turned before he faced her, her heel connecting with the small of his back.

It was enough to make him stumble, but he righted himself quickly. He was rushing toward her again, low this time, and his blade flashed past her shoulder. A moment later, the fabric draped across her chest fell away.

For a moment she wondered if that was intentional. It hardly mattered. She spun away from him, pulling the useless length of material away from her body and dropping it in the sand in the same movement.

Lotor turned to look at her, and she saw her opening – with nothing but the binding over her chest to restrain her movement, it was easy to adjust her grip on her weapon and push forward. Her own blade gleamed in the light as she leaped into the air, bringing it down from above. For a split second, she could see her own reflection in Lotor’s wide eyes, her heart pounding in her ears.

The next sound she heard was that of metal on metal – the harsh clang of swords meeting as Lotor brought his weapon up to parry her blow. Just as she had known he would. There was sweat on his brow and a smile stretching across his face; his breath puffed hot against her lips for a long, lingering moment before he pushed her away and steadied himself on his feet again.

“You are stunning like this, Allura,” he breathed. She felt that way, the feeling of it vibrating through every cell in her body. It thrummed like music in her, making her grin wildly as she reached up to wipe her brow and clear a few errant strands of hair from her face.

He didn’t let her rest long – he was already retaliating with another attack. She responded with one of her own. Back and forth they went, conversing in a language of battle cries and thrusting swords. Allura drew first blood, a tiny nick on his exposed upper arm that he barely seemed to notice.

“Consider that retaliation for my robe,” she said, breathless, and he laughed.

“More than fair.” And he came at her again.

Her muscles ached, her skin dripping with sweat, but she never wanted their battle to end. She felt like she was flying every time she lifted off the sand. The blade in her hands seemed to weigh nothing, even as her arm shook when she rose it up for another attack.

One final time, Lotor dodged, the heat of his body rushing past her shoulder. She turned to face him again, to ready her counter-attack, and cold metal pressed against her neck.

They were frozen in time for a few long, lingering moments, Lotor staring down the length of his sword into her eyes. She held her chin up, the point of the blade pressed neatly – almost gently – against the underside of her jaw. “It appears,” Lotor gasped, “that I’ve bested you this round.”

She looked up at him, and a smile stretched across her face. “Are you sure?” she asked, and she glanced downward. He followed her gaze until his eyes fell on her own blade, pressed squarely against the center of his chest.

His eyes widened, his jaw falling open, and finally, he laughed. The blade pulled back from her jaw and fell into the sand with a dull thud. “Very well…I yield, princess.”

“As do I,” she said, grinning and letting her own weapon fall from her fingers. She took his hand when he offered it and got to her feet. Every muscle screamed. Lotor must have noticed her wince, because he laughed sympathetically.

“I do believe we’re going to be rather sore tomorrow,” he said softly, and she snorted.

* * *

The moment they sank into the water, Allura felt Lotor’s body glide up to her own, pressing against her arm as he combed her hair back from her neck. “Have I earned the princess’ respect in battle?” he purred, his breath hot against her nape even despite the steam rising around them.

She paused a moment, humming thoughtfully, as if she needed more than half a tick to consider her answer. “Yes,” she finally said with a warm and easy smile. “Yes, I do believe you performed incredibly.”

“I do hope that’s not the last time you offer me such a compliment,” he growled. His lips grazed against her skin, and she pulled away, laughing.

“You can wait one more day, can’t you?” She ran a playful finger up his arm, and he shivered.

“One kiss at least…would you grant me that?”

She shook her head. “We’ve held to tradition thus far. May as well follow through.”

“Were all of those nights before the start of the ceremony a part of some tradition I’d forgotten?” he asked, one eyebrow teasingly arched. But he didn’t press, didn’t move any closer; his fingers hovered just a hair away from her skin, silently asking for her permission to touch.

Allura brought her palm to the back of his head, fingers gently combing through strands of his hair. But she resisted the urge to pull him in for a kiss – powerful as it was. “Patience,” she told him softly. “Surely you haven’t forgotten the first lesson we were given already.”

“Never,” he said, leaning into her touch. He brought a hand up, thumb brushing over her cheek. “Now then…to the task at hand, hm?”

 She nodded, reaching for the silken cloth that had been neatly folded at the edge of the pool. She took the lead, dipping it into the fragrant water and bringing it to Lotor’s face.

“I have but one request,” Lotor had said to her, one a night that felt like it had been decaphoebs ago, when they had first announced their union. “I want nothing more than to share in all of the Altean traditions preserved through the ages. But I am as much Galra as I am Altean, and there is one Galra tradition that I wish to observe, if you would agree to share it with me…”

When he had told her about the ceremonial bathing, she had agreed without a second thought, and now that they were alone, naked save for the water that clung to their skin, she was happier than ever that she had. The moment’s respite from all of the keen eyes that had watched their every move, even if it gave them just a few dobashes of privacy, was something she hadn’t realized she had craved so much. Gently, she wiped the cloth over his brow and watched his eyes slide closed.

She moved down over his cheekbone, tracing a path along the outside of his face to his chin. Her fingers caught on his bottom lip as she brought the cloth up the other side, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward. Next, she followed a curved path around each pointed ear, along the sides of his neck and down across his chest.

There was a tiny bruise here, from their battle before. She lingered over it a moment longer before leaning in and pressing her lips against it.

Lotor shuddered. “What happened to following tradition?”

“That doesn’t count,” she told him, smiling. “I didn’t kiss you on the lips, did I?”

He huffed. “Sneaky.”

“Cunning.”

She merely giggled as she drew the cloth down the length of each arm, between his fingers, across his palms. Deep blue stains were splattered across the tips of his fingers and over his knuckles. Her brow furrowed. “What in the stars…”

“Lapis grass,” he said, as if that answered her half-unspoken question. “Woven correctly, it makes a respectable piece of armor, but the color stains the skin. Rather unavoidable when one spends enough time working with it bare-handed.” His teeth flashed in the low, flickering light as he smiled. “Though the locals who provided me with it have long considered wearing gloves while weaving unacceptable. Out of respect, I thought it best to follow their example.”

She looked up at him as the pieces came together in her mind. That armor he had worn before, so light and elegant, yet strong enough to deflect her blade… “You wove your armor yourself?”

He nodded. “Forgoing the more traditional Altean robes, I thought nothing else would be adequate for our battle.” He turned his wrist in her hand, grasping her fingers in his own and bringing them to his lips. “Don’t you agree?”

Oh, the urge to kiss him was growing stronger every moment…but she focused her attention on his fingers instead. One by one, she ran the freshly dampened cloth along them, pressing on his palm to extend his claws before polishing each one of them as well. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, but he stood statue-still, save for his steady breathing.

The blue stains were going nowhere, no matter how hard she scrubbed, so she let them be and continued down along his ribs, pausing at each faded scar to give it extra attention with the cloth. She watched a thin wisp of steam rise off his skin after every pass of the cloth over it, making her way down along his back and hips. She carefully, cleaned along the edge of his genital sheath where it barely peeked out above the water’s surface, and she drew her mind back from the verge of wandering.

She would have plenty of time for those thoughts later. For now, she stood up straight once again and looked him in the eye. There was something…sparkling there, gleaming with an emotion that she couldn’t quite name. But it was so intense, so _pure_ that it made her shiver even as he silently reached for a fresh cloth from the side of the bath.

Like her, her began with her face, staring intently down at her as he cleaned the sweat from her brow. His touch was impossibly gentle, barely there at all as he ran the cloth over the marks at the apex of her cheeks. She let out a tiny giggle as it trekked across the bridge of her nose and left a drop of water hanging from the tip.

He wiped it away with one swipe of his thumb and a smile.

He moved behind her, lifting her hair away and brushing the cloth down along the nape of her neck and across her shoulders. It felt divine, her stiff muscles relaxing almost instantly at his touch, and she sighed. She could feel his breath against the crook of her neck, coming in slow, measured puffs as he came around to her front again, circling like a stalking hunter, and he ran the silky fabric over each of her breasts and down the length of each arm.

He, too gave each of her fingers his undivided attention, cleaning each knuckle and nail until she was sure they would sparkle if there were more light. The water sloshed around them, the only sound besides her heart pounding in her ears as he washed every inch of her stomach down to the dip of her hip bones where they disappeared under the milky water.

When it seemed there was not a single bit of her left to touch, he dropped the cloth on the edge of the bath and cupped her jaw in her hands. For a moment, she thought he was about to kiss her, and she wanted it more than anything, no matter what tradition dictated. But instead, he pressed his forehead to her own, letting his eyes close.

“Thank you,” he said. It was nothing more than a whisper, but it was so heavy with emotion that she felt her own chest tighten. She reached up to grasp his wrists, pressing her forehead harder against his and closing her eyes as well.

She said nothing. Nothing needed to be said now. For a moment, they stood, so still that the ripples in the water settled around them, until finally, he pulled away. His fingertips lingered on the line of her jaw, leaving warm, wet streaks from the water that had clung to his hands. “We should dress,” he said softly. “And should get some rest for tomorrow, I should think.”

“Indeed,” she said, wiping her eyes. “We do have a long day ahead. But I do hope it’s a good one.”

He shot her a smile, his gaze just as sharp as ever once again. “I’ve no doubt, princess.”


	4. A Lesson in Love

Allura bowed her head as Coran draped the ceremonial string of crystals over her shoulders. The chain was heavier than she expected, but the edges of the stones were smooth and cool against her neck, and the feeling of it was strangely comforting. His eyes were shining when she glanced up at him again with a light smile.

Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. The shimmering powder that dotted her cheeks accentuated her marks with flecks of light silver, a smattering of it staining her neck and shoulders down to the low dip of her dress’s collar. The chain of crystals settled nicely against her collarbones, all different shades of pink and blue and yellow held together by fine golden links. They stood out against her dress – the deep purple fabric flowed like water down the length of her body, fading into a bright silver-blue where it covered her feet.

“You look beautiful, Allura,” he said softly.

Stars, he was right. Seeing it all come together like this, it almost felt like a dream. And she did feel _beautiful._

“Thank you,” she said, smiling, but the words didn’t feel big enough. Emotion swelled in her chest, flooding through her body until she felt like all the words in the universe wouldn’t be enough to explain it away. Tears gathered in her eyes as she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. “Thank you…thank you, Coran. For everything you’ve done…everything you’ve given me.”

His hands pressed against her back, holding her close. “No need to thank me. I didn’t do a thing I didn’t want to.” His hold on her tightened, his voice strained as he added, “I’m so very…very proud of you, you know.”

She let out a tiny, watery laugh, nodding against his chest. “I know.”

“And I want nothing but happiness for you.”

Her fingers curled against his shirt. “I know…”

“Are you happy, Allura?”

She pulled back, glancing up at him to find him staring at her expectantly. She met his gaze, standing up straight, and nodding again. “I am,” she said. “I…I know it will be a long road ahead, but that hasn’t stopped me before.” She smiled at him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “But I’ve never been so excited to face the trials that the next chapter will bring. I’m not dreading what tomorrow holds anymore. Instead, I find myself quite looking forward to it. That must count for something, don’t you think?”

He matched her smile, reaching up to wipe his eyes and straighten his mustache. They were due to present themselves to the waiting crowds any minute, and he had to look presentable. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think it must.”

Still hand in hand, they turned and headed for the door, opening it and stepping out to meet the great crowds together.

* * *

“I can’t believe this whole thing started four days ago,” Lance sighed above the murmur of the crowds. He leaned forward to stare down the massive aisle that stretched from one edge of the room to the other. It seemed like miles in both directions from where they stood in the center. “How close to an Earth wedding is this going to be anyway? Are there gonna be flower girls? Ring bearers? Do Alteans even do rings?”

“Rings or no, I can tell you one thing – I’m like…one hundred percent gonna cry,” Hunk groaned. He already looked a little misty eyed and they hadn’t even started yet.

“Five bucks says the waterworks start before the vows,” Pidge laughed quietly.

“I’ll take that bet,” Hunk said.

“No, you can’t! Not when you can rig it however you want.”

“Guys…no betting on the wedding,” Shiro sighed.

“Ten bucks says Keith is a surprise wedding crier,” Lance added, nodding toward the line of Blade soldiers standing on the other side of the circle.

Shiro rolled his eyes, but then said, “I’d put money on Kolivan.”

“Seriously? That brick wall?” Lance squinted, trying to look discrete as he studied Kolivan’s face and failing miserably. “Man…if only we could get Keith over here and ask him if he’s ever caught his commander crying at a Nicholas Sparks movie or something…”

“I think I can pretty confidently say that the Galra have never heard of Nicholas Sparks,” Pidge told him.

“Anything’s possible.”

“Maybe, but if a probability creeps close enough to zero, it at least makes it pretty stupid to hope for it.”

“Don’t _statistics_ me,” Lance pouted.

Keith watched from the other side of the circle, doing his best not to fidget. As part of the emperor’s guard, they had to be vigilant, and on top of that, they had to maintain a sort of “royal dignity.” That was what Kolivan had called it anyway, with a sneer like the words tasted bad or something.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Kolivan mused beside him, and Keith glanced over in his direction. “This is the first Altean wedding to happen in over ten thousand years.”

“Oh…yeah, I guess you’re right.” He paused for a moment before he asked, “Do Galra…do weddings?”

He swore Kolivan cracked a smile. “Not like this,” he said. “Galra coupling ceremonies are much more…succinct.”

Yeah, Keith didn’t doubt that.

“Still…” Kolivan sighed, “This isn’t something you see often. It’s a privilege to be a part of.”

“Yeah…” Keith glanced down the aisles as the murmurs of the crowd started to grow softer. Beside him, he felt Kolivan and the others stand at attention, and without hesitating he did the same.

He had never been to many weddings as a kid. The handful he’d attended – or been _forced_ to attend, tux and all – were nothing but hazy memories of flowers and lace and people he didn’t know crying for reasons he didn’t understand. He’d never gotten the appeal.

But for all the pomp and circumstance that had preceded this final ceremony, and for all the crowds that had gathered as witnesses, the final rite didn’t open with any fanfare. There was no music to accompany Lotor and Allura walking toward the center circle from opposing sides of the massive sprawling aisle. They walked in silence, their hands clasped behind their backs, their backs straight, their eyes up and locked on one another.

It seemed to take ages for them to finally meet in the middle, stopping at the edges of the center circle, unaccompanied. For a moment, Keith looked past them, his eyes falling on Shiro and Lance and Pidge and Hunk standing on the opposite side.

Hunk was crying already, and even Shiro looked a little misty-eyed. Pidge looked almost starstruck – and who wouldn’t be, having a front-row seat to a royal alien wedding? And Lance…Lance was staring straight at him.

Keith blinked, watching as Lance awkwardly raised on hand and waved. Or at least that looked like a wave. He wasn’t totally sure. But he managed a little smile and raised two fingers in a half-wave of his own.

Then Lance pointed right at Allura and Lotor with an overblown expression of astonishment. He pressed his hands over his heart and pretended to cry, and Keith snorted. If Kolivan noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Allura smiled as she finally faced Lotor in the center of the circle. The shimmering powder on his own cheeks lined the underside of his marks, and even if they weren’t easily visible to the untrained eye, she knew they were there. She loved that they were there.

Her mother had told her once that she had barely heard the words spoken at her own bonding ceremony. She had been too focused on letting her mind wander around everything that was to come, everything the future held. Allura hadn’t understood – how could someone not even pay attention to such a hallowed ceremony? But now she understood perfectly. She barely heard a single sentence of what Coran was saying, even though she knew most of the words by heart.

There was one part that made her snap back to reality, but it took Coran nudging her arm to bring her attention to it. “Allura,” he said quietly. “It’s time.”

She blinked and smiled. “Oh – oh yes, of course.” She held her hand out, extending it toward Lotor so that they could entwine their fingers together. “I see you,” she said, reciting the words she had spent so long practicing. They flowed easily, almost second nature to her now. “I feel you. I take you for my own. All that you are.”

Lotor brought her hand up, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Not a part of tradition, but it made her heart swell nonetheless. “I see you,” he said, dropping another kiss to her wrist. “I feel you.” He pressed his lips against the base of her thumb, closing his eyes. “I take you for my own…All that you are.”

“Well,” Coran said, his voice rough as he wiped his eyes. “I don’t see any reason to wait – Princess Allura…Emperor Lotor…you may seal your bond.”

Allura surged forward, beaming as she pressed her hands to either side of his face and tugged him down for a kiss. Lotor’s arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, pressing her close to him and for one blissful moment, she felt like she was floating through space.

* * *

“Come back to bed,” Lotor beckoned her, and Allura fit her body up against his easily under the sheets. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh, letting the exhaustion of the trials before them seep into her body.

His fingers were playing over her shoulder, his breath tickling her brow as he traced absentminded patterns over her skin. Every so often, his lips brushed her temple. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more exhausted in my entire life.”

She managed a laugh, though she felt exactly the same.

When they had made it to their chambers for the night, floating on the high of their friends’ congratulations and well-wishes, they had both been well aware of the expectations the wedding night carried. In the old days of Galra union ceremonies, Lotor had told her, they would have consummated their relationship in front of all of their cheering guests. To each their own, she supposed, but she was more than relieved their wedding didn’t follow ancient Galra tradition.

Instead they had returned to their chambers, alone, and spent ages – it felt like vargas – peeling the clothing off of one another’s bodies, leaving kisses and soft touches on every bit of skin they revealed as they went. Lotor had laid her down on the bed, sucking marks into the crook of her neck, scratched tantalizingly across her thighs, made her arch off of the sheets and moan at his touch.

They had paused at one point, closing their eyes, and Allura had found Lotor with his face buried against her chest. She had noticed all at once the weariness in his features, and it had made her realize just how _sore_ she was from head to toe.

So instead of living up to the usual expectations, they spent their wedding night sleeping – a deep and dreamless sleep. Allura couldn’t have imagined a more blissful way to celebrate.

But now, after a few vargas’ sleep, and despite how sore her knees were, Allura found herself feeling rejuvenated. She reached back, ran her fingers along the curve of Lotor’s wrist, and glanced up at him. “Too exhausted to indulge me a bit?” she asked, feigning sheepishness.

As always, he saw right through her. “Oh,” he chimed. “Have I left my queen wanting?”

“Never.” She turned over easily in his arms, straddling him and pressing back against his hips. She could feel the line of his sheath against her folds and heard him sigh. “We both needed the sleep more than anything else…but we still have some time left of our wedding night. And I want to make love to my husband.”

“You know I could never deny my wife that much,” he purred, wrapping his arms around her and moving in for a deep and lingering kiss.

His hands trailed up her back, thumbs grazing the dimly glowing marks lining her ribs. She shivered at the feeling of it, watching the soft light bathe his hands and face in blue. His eyes followed his own hands, moving from one line of marks to another – down her chest, across her breasts, down the line of her hips. He didn’t miss a single one, and with every pass of the pad of his thumb, her glow grew brighter and her breath grew more ragged.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, almost inaudible, and he cupped her face in his hands. “My queen…”

“My king,” she replied, just as quietly. She dipped down to catch his lips in a kiss.

She could feel him swelling underneath her, poking out of his sheath enough that the tip of him breached her folds and made her sigh as a soft static of pleasure prickled up her spine. When she opened her eyes again, she found him staring, his eyes shining in the hazy blue glow. “Allura,” he said, “Stay with me…”

It was an odd request at first – she certainly didn’t plan on going anywhere tonight. But that wasn’t what he meant. She knew it in her bones.

She smiled, taking his hands and holding them to her chest. “Lotor…I didn’t marry you on a whim. I meant what I said today…our vows. Our oath to each other.” She dropped a kiss to his knuckles. “I see you.” She let her lips drag across his skin, pressing them to his palm. “I feel you.” She clasped their hands together, squeezing his tight as she leaned in close to him and rested her forehead against his. “I take you for my own. All that you are. Always.”

She brought a hand to his cheek and felt wetness under her fingers, but Lotor didn’t make a sound as he nodded and kissed her again, tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her like she would disappear if he ever let go.

She sighed as he finally pressed inside of her, fully, and she kept their foreheads pressed together, her eyes lightly closed as she rocked against him. Her aches and pains were all forgotten, replaced by soft, pulsating pleasure as he met the motions of her hips with his own thrusts. His claws curled against her back, and she laughed. “Was it as difficult as you thought…waiting for this.”

“Always,” he said, opening his eyes. “It’s always difficult…waiting for something I never stop wanting.”

“How cruel of tradition to insist that we deny ourselves,” she mused, her smile never dropping. She gasped as Lotor thrust up into her with a bit more force, hitting a spot inside of her that made her toes curl. “Ah – it was worth it, I think.”

“More than worth it.” She looked down at him, meeting his gaze and bracing her hands against his chest. She could feel his pulse pounding against her palms. His hair spread out like white fire behind him on the pillow, his yellow eyes cutting through the blue glow.

She closed her eyes, pleasure thrumming through her, mixing with a feeling of happiness so immense that she felt like it would break her into a million pieces. She felt him smile against his neck. He left a kiss there, almost like an afterthought, as he flipped her onto her back and laced their fingers together on either side of her head. He stole another kiss, swallowing her moan as the change in angle drove her pleasure to its peak. It crested and spread to every corner of her body, and she let out a long, low moan as she let herself drown in it.

As she came down, quivering, she pressed her palms against his cheeks and holding his face close to her own. She felt his body tense, his breath catching and shaking as he found his own release.

She held him close, his breath evening out and his heart rate slowing down. She could feel his swollen knot inside of her, holding them together. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Allura…” he breathed after a few moments’ silence. “I…”

He paused, and she stroked her thumb along the mark on his cheek. “Yes?”

He swallowed. “I want so much…so much with you. A happy life…a family…is that selfish of me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.” She pulled him in, hugging him close, letting him rest against her shoulder and rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles. “And if it is, I’m just as selfish as you are.”

He hummed, then smiled. “What a wonderfully selfish pair we make.”

“What a pair indeed…” she sighed, kissing his temple. She bit her lip. “Or rather…perhaps we make more of a selfish trio…”

He glanced up at her, his brows knit in confusion until he looked down and saw her hand resting on her stomach. Realization seemed to wash like a wave over him, his eyes widening. “A…Allura…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she breathed, her face flushing and her heart racing yet again. “But I knew you wouldn’t hurt me in our battle. Coran helped me keep a close watch on things every step of the way. I – we were safe. I made sure we were perfectly safe…”

“You’re…”

She finally managed a smile, her eyes stinging as she held his face in her hands. “Yes,” she said. “I am…”

He looked down at her, breathless again, his eyes wide and shining in the dark, overflowing with such happiness that she could feel it radiating from him. He beamed as he surged forward and caught her in a elated kiss. “Allura,” he breathed. “My queen…my love…you never cease to astound me.”

She laughed as he rained kisses down on her face, grinning from ear to ear. It was a beautiful sight, Lotor brimming with so much overwhelming joy. “I love you…” she said, their foreheads pressed against one another. “The two of you…”

“The two of _you,_ ” he mimicked, like he could barely believe it. “I thought I couldn’t be any happier…but stars…you continue to exceed all expectations.”

She very much hoped she would for a long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am...a ~~sap~~ hopeless romantic.
> 
> I have endless appreciation for anyone who wants to drop a comment, or come find me on tumblr (garbage-dono) and freak out with me about Altean wedding traditions.


End file.
